In their frequent rides they covered most of the
roads about the city, even to the ruins of old Panama. Then they
began to explore the by-paths and trails.
One afternoon they turned into an unfrequented road that led off
to the jungle from the main highway, walking their horses while
they marvelled at the beauty of the foliage. The trail they knew
led to a coffee plantation far up among the hills, but it was so
little travelled that the verdure brushed them as they went, and
in many places they passed beneath a roof of branches. Before they
had penetrated a quarter of a mile they were in the midst of an
unbroken solitude, shut off from the world by a riotous glory of
green, yellow, and crimson. They had not spoken for a long time,
and were feeling quite content with the pleasant monotony of--
their journey, when they burst out into a rocky glen where a
spring of clear water bubbled forth. With a common impulse they
reined in; Twenty feet farther on the trail twisted into the
screen of verdure and was lost.
"What a discovery!" exclaimed Edith. "Help me down, please, I'm
going to drink."
Kirk dismounted and lent her a hand; the horses snorted
appreciatively, and stepping forward, thrust their soft muzzles
eagerly into the stream, then fell to browsing upon the tender
leaves at their shoulders.
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